Slowly Freezing
by ifonly-criedthewoodpecker
Summary: "I'm cold. Come closer." (Canon divergence/missing scene where Killian explores what it feels like to be heartless.)


He was cold.

He was horribly, _dreadfully_ cold.

Make no mistake, between the chill of a ship on a stormy night, the terribly thin rags he was made to wear as a child, and his penchant for leaving his shirt open to the point that it was almost ridiculous, he was used to the cold. Chattering teeth and the uncomfortable fluttering of the muscles in his chest were side effects he could deal with.

But this was something else entirely.

He'd also dealt quite frequently with apathy - the metaphorical sense of the word. Being a pirate captain, infamous for brutality isn't something that's commonly matched with empathy and kindness. He'd done many things, that he fervently regrets now, without a mere flinch. But that was something built up to and practiced - something he knew wouldn't last.

This was something else.

The chill that he felt now was not one that took up residence in his nose and ears, making themselves known by taking on red hues, but rather it scampered up and down his spine, choosing to finally settle where the flutter of his heart once kept him warm. This was not just _cold_ and it was not just _empty._ It was almost like being dead, he imagined. It was the overwhelming sense of dread that haunts you right before you die, and the inability to feel or do anything by one's own volition in death.

It was frigid, and it only got worse.

The feeling of a full belly weighed him down, along with the small amount of emotion he was allowed to feel with his _mind_ rather than heart - the aching, pounding hatred for his foreseeable future and the promise he'd made to Emma. She was sitting next to him now, laughing about something her father had said, and while these warmly lit nights with good food and good company would normally fill him up with a coziness fitting with the setting, what little feeling he had room for now was leaving him frowning and distant.

The feeling worsened as the cold in his chest moved to tickle him unpleasantly for a moment, before coming up and grabbing at his jaw, and making his throat contract. He groaned quietly at the pain and in dread of what was to come.

He felt the chill travel to the quiet corners of his mind and whisper, slightly growing louder as he presumed the Crocodile decided on his punishment.

He supposed that the Dark One had ways of knowing what it felt like to have your heart outside your chest, having had the time to research and experiment with magic that Killian himself chose not to think about. He supposed that the vermin knew exactly what this evening filled with regrets and hopelessness was doing to him, along with the lack of true feeling. His words were far too ironic for him not to.

He felt himself be pulled to Emma, invading her space with his mouth near her ear as a whisper fell from his lips:

"I'm cold. Come closer."

It was not flirtatious and he supposed that from an outside perspective the words probably fell flat.

 _My heart wasn't in it,_ he chuckled bitterly to himself.

Her eyebrows furrowed for half a moment, taking in the lack of innuendo on his face, the lack of love in his eyes, but she quickly shook her self from her thoughts and scooted closer.

She snuggled in tight and placed a hand on his chest, a bit too far to the right for her to notice anything suspicious, and he quickly felt her body's heat as she brought his arm around her. He was still freezing on the inside though, quickly turning into solid ice regardless of their surroundings, and regardless of her.

He felt the swirls of ice in his mind cruelly chuckle before nestling back into their home and snuggling with him too. It was discouraging, but he allowed his mind to get lost in other things for a moment. The color of her hair was like the sun shining brightly on the sand, and the apples of her cheeks were lifted with the soft smile she wore. Against his will his lips quirked up.

She quickly noticed him staring, turning her head to return the glance. She gently swiped at his dimple with the pad of her thumb and smiled right back, a different smile, not small and casual, but deep and - dare he say - loving.

Happiness and hope filled his thoughts, those of maybe hearing her tell him one day, of telling her repeatedly in return. Hope for a life.

Against her will he teasingly booped her nose as she giggled indignantly.

And against the Dark One's will he could swear that in that moment he could feel his heart flutter with warmth, though out of his chest it was.


End file.
